Strong
by Sparkles of Youthfulness
Summary: She was courageous, beautiful, passionate, and above all else, she was strong. But no one could be strong all the time. F!Cousland/Ser Gilmore


The blades clashed, their song echoing across the training grounds. Springing back, Ser Roland Gilmore studied his opponent with caution, wary of her movements. Experience had taught him to be on guard at all times when fighting her. Slowly, he circled around, and she returned the movement as they both waited for the other to make the another move.

"You shan't be the victor this time." She told him, smirking all the while. "You've bested me only a few times, Roland. And you will not do so again."

He raised an eyebrow at her declaration, but returned her smirk. He had been training hard for their next spar, and he knew he would not lose . "We shall see, my lady."

She frowned at him then, and suddenly swung, her sword cleaving the now empty air where his head had once been.

"What's wrong, _my lady_?" He was teasing her, goading her into making a mistake. He knew she hated it when he used such terms with her, while he allowed her to call him by his given name.

Her fists clenched tightly around her blade before she began to swing quickly, forcefully attempting to beat him back. But he blocked every blow with twice the strength, and soon her back was against the wall, and he had knocked the sword from her hands.

A victorious grin spread across his face, and he pointed his sword at her throat. "It seems I have won, my lady."

"Not quite."

Then she was on top of him, and he suddenly could not remember what he had been doing. All he knew was that he quite liked the feeling of her body pressed against his. He then felt the cold metal of her dagger against his neck, and it took several moments for him to register that he had lost. But that did not matter, because he could not think, and all that was going through his mind was the thought of how RIGHT this felt, even though he knew he should not - could not - feel this way because he was a knight and she was-

"I won." And now her hot breath was tickling his ear and alarm bells were ringing in his head and he knew he needed to get up right now but he could not get his body to move. His heart was pounding wildly and his skin was hot and _Maker he could not think!_

A giggle reached his ears, and he looked up, though he immediately regretted it as he found himself close to her - too close. But at the same time he was eagerly drinking up every moment, and wished they could remain this way forever.

"You look a bit out of sorts. What's the matter, Roland?" She looked down at him with an innocent smile, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her. "Do you... Need any assistance?"

He stared at her with wide eyes, face flushing as his name came from her lips. It was then that he realized that she was leaning in, and his heart threatened to burst from his chest as her eyes fluttered shut and - Maker, he could not do this! And he stood suddenly, knocking her to the ground in his haste to stand. He looked to her, regret filling him instantly at the look of hurt that covered her face. "Elissa, I-"

"No, no. It's okay." Her voice was quiet and subdued, filled with the pain that had covered her face. Nothing like the Elissa Cousland he knew. "I... I apologize. I assumed too much. Please, forgive me Ser Gilmore."

He winced at her use of his title and family name. The only time she had ever called him that was in public. When it had been just the two of them, she had never once called him that. "Elissa..." He was filled with a desperate need to make her understand. "I... I can't... I'm..."

Elissa ducked her head. "I... I understand."

He froze as he stared at her, unbelievable guilt and pain ripping through his heart. He could see her hands shake, if just slightly. He knew she was holding back the urge to dig her nails into her palms, to use the physical pain as a distraction. He knew she was ducking her head to hide the tears he knew were gathering in her eyes that she would never let fall, because she was strong and she believed the strong did not cry.

She was strong and passionate and beautiful and more than he ever deserved. He knew all this because he had grown with her. He had watched her grow from a child to a courageous woman who he knew better than himself.

"I... I must go see to Scout. You know how that hound is. H-he's probably breaking into the larder as we speak... G-goodbye, Ser Gilmore." She did not look up at him. Her eyes were kept firmly on the ground, hidden away from him. Her hands still continued to shake. But as she began to walk away they slowly curled into fists and he could see her nails beginning to dig into the flesh of her palms. And then she glanced ever so slightly behind her, and he knew she did not mean for him to see her, and he saw something he never expected from the strong, passionate, beautiful, courageous woman he knew.

She was crying. Tears dripped down from her eyes, streaking her face and slowly falling from her face and to the ground.

And this time he did not allow himself a moment to think. He went to her, sweeping her into his arms. He stared determinedly down at her bewildered, tear-streaked face and wiped away her tears. And then he kissed her, realizing another thing about the woman he thought he had known so well. She was courageous, beautiful, passionate, and above all else, she was strong.

But no one could be strong all the time.

* * *

I've loved Ser Gilmore since the moment I saw him! I first played the Human Noble origin, and when I saw him it 'twas love at first sight. I was so pissed when I found out you couldn't take him with you, and that he dies... Course, that seems to be a common theme with the origin stories. The guy I like either dies, or he's in love with someone else/a bloodmage. (Ser Gilmore, Tamlen, Jowan.) Bah.... Anyways, thank you Shazzer80 for telling me his actual name! :3 It was really bugging me that I didn't know. So, review please!


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